Jagged Edges
by Shellyluvstoread
Summary: A five year old Edward Nigma hears his parents fighting one night...


_CRASH_

A five year old Edward Nigma lurched forward in his bed. He had just been going to sleep from the last object that had collided with his door!

Big green eyes looked towards the kitchen sadly. Would they ever stop fighting?

He smirked to himself and slipped out of bed quietly, padding over to his small desk in the corner. After jotting the question down in crayon (green of course, it was his favorite color) he held the paper up in a fashion reminiscent of Simba.

That would be another question the great private detective Nigma would solve one day! His grin widened at the idea of his dream job. He would grow up and work in a big office with people that would bring him coffee and he would have assistants and lots of money with a gold cane and daddy would be so pr-!

His thoughts were interrupted by yet another ear splitting clang from outside his room. That one must have been a pot.

He bit his lip and cautiously drew a big question mark at the end of his new riddle, glancing over towards the sound of the yelling. Furrowing his brow, he stood up straighter. He had to investigate! After all that was what private _investigators_ did!

His spine went curved however, when he thought of the pain that usually accompanied the the mystery. Why didn't daddy love him? Why did he hit so hard? Why didn't mommy do anything but sit in the corner and sob when it happened? Why wasn't anyone proud of him?

Taking a quick look at his paper, he put it in the pile with the rest of the questions he was going to solve in a hidden drawer that only he knew about. Among the scraps of paper was his magnifying glass, a Sherlock Holmes book, and his hat that he played detective with. With a soft thud, he closed the compartment and crept towards the door. When he opened it the screaming became much louder than before.

"-Then why did you marry me?"

"Because I knocked you up ya crazy bitch! Your prude of an old man pretty much gave me a death threat if I didn't pop the question!"

His father was standing there in a wife beater with a half empty bottle of beer in his hand, a joint in the other. Edward didn't know what had started the fight, but he was old enough now to tell it was worse than the others that occurred every night. The way his mother was wiping her cheek looked as if the name of his shirt lived up to the wearer.

"The condom broke because of your crazy ass fetishes!" he screamed.

"Who bought them in the first place?"

"Who didn't want an abortion, Charlotte? Who thought it was morally wrong?" He stamped out the doobie under his heel, burning the floor more than it already was.

"The thought of it disgusts me! I ain't as sick as you! I didn't want too kill an unborn child!"

"The way that little pest bugs me about him being as smart as fuckin' Einstein I might kill him already born!"

Edward's eyes watered up as every evil word sunk in, new questions rising to the surface for him to answer. What was an abortion? A condom? A fetish? Why didn't anyone want him in the first place?

"You know you don't mean that!"

"Oh don't I? This whole mess that churned into a baby was your fault!"

"It was not!"

'Why would he kill me?' Edward wandered. Weren't people supposed to love their children? Where were those happy families like on TV? He figured if he couldn't answer them, he might as well ask someone who could. A small body nudged out the door and slid into the kitchen, so quietly no one noticed he was there in the corner.

"What's an abortion?" His tiny voice asked timidly.

His mother whirled and around and gasped at his voice. Father didn't react so non-violently though. His teeth clenched in a sneer and he smashed the end of his bottle on the counter.

"Why you little eavesdropper no good bastard!"

Edward whimpered as wandering eyes came upon the jagged edges of the bottle that was coming towards him held by powerful hands.

Of course the small boy was no idiot, he turned heel and started scrambling back for his room.

It was almost as if he was in a nightmare and the big bag monster was coming to get him! Except in this nightmare, he would feel every bit of the pain and not wake up to relieve him.

Just as small fingers touched the knob a side of the glass hit him in the back of his thin, well worn pajamas, leaving open bleeding wound in it's wake.

Trying to ignore the pain hissing through his back, he slammed the creaky wooden door and locked it, backing away from the hammering fist on the opposite side.

"You let me in this god-damned minute you stupid shrimp of I'll peel you like an orange!" It seemed like the innermost of his throat should be peeling he was yelling so loudly.

Eddie covered his ears and felt tears prick in his eyes. A cold yet warming feeling soaked through his tattered pajama shirt as he climbed back into his semi safe bed. He searched in the crack between the mattress and the wall and felt soft material on his fingertips. The hammering stopped and heavy feet could be heard stomping away from the door in a rage.

Edward cuddled his scarecrow plushie , feeling the fabric on his face and just taking comfort in knowing it was there in case he ever needed it. They were blaming each other...for him? Tears soaked into the tattered doll as his heartbeat returned to normal. He had called him stupid again! That only meant he would have to work harder to prove him he wanted was love, some attention and for arms to hug him back for once.

A tiny sad smile twitched on his mouth. Maybe Scarecrow could help him find the answers.


End file.
